


Your Move

by TheChampion04



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Blondie - Freeform, Dragon Age 2 - Freeform, Drinking, F/M, Flirting, Groping, One Shot, Teasing, The Champion, The Hanged Man - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-09
Updated: 2015-09-09
Packaged: 2018-04-19 21:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4762001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChampion04/pseuds/TheChampion04
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen and Hawke are at The Hanged Man having a friendly drink. Not his typical scene, but Cullen tagged along anyway to humor the Mage. The two get a little buzzed and start having a conversation that leads to a challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Move

**Author's Note:**

  * For [All the Cullenites out there!](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=All+the+Cullenites+out+there%21).



> Just a one shot idea that a friend and I had a while back. Decided to share it with the rest of the world because, reasons. So this is perfect for those of you who've ever shipped them before. Couldn't really resist the urge to play it out. It was just too tempting to see them together.

Hawke and Cullen both took a deep chug from their steins. Hawke clucked a happy sigh when she tapped the cup back down on the table and smirked when Cullen shuddered slightly. A slight color was rising in his cheeks, and his handsome face lit a little easier.

"I can see why my recruits frequent this place," he said, leaning forward slightly and circling the stein with his hands. "Something about this water is quite different than what they serve in the barracks."

Hawke snorted. Water. There he went pretending to be a saint, again. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, tracing her finger around the lip of the cup. "You should try the water they serve at the Blooming Rose. A lot more of your recruits visit the Rose than here."

Cullen's brow furrowed. "Separate from my position as a servant of the Chantry and in direct supervision of most of these men, I still don't understand the appeal."

Hawke smirked. "Any man with a firm cock would be able to understand the appeal, Knight-Captain." Was it her imagination, or did the color across Cullen's cheeks spread as he breathed out a semi-shocked laugh.

"That is hardly a problem I have, Champion."

"As any red-blooded male would say," she teased. "In all seriousness, Knight-Captain, there is no Mrs. Cullen..." She stopped herself. "On that note, what IS your last name?" 

Cullen laughed and shook his head. "No need for you to know Hawke. Knight-Captain suffices."

"You've no wife," she continued, "You spend your life in your office with no time for trysts with any love interests, you don't visit the Rose, and it seems the only woman you have eyes for is Andraste herself, and we all know how hard to get she plays." He pointed her eyes directly at hers, almost as a warning, but Hawke continued. "Would I to hazard a guess, I'd say you play chaste because you are otherwise incapable of wooing a woman to bed, much less ravaging her properly."

Cullen's jaw tensed and he was silent. His eyes darkened as he watched Hawke playfully lift an eyebrow. She wondered what rolled through his mind, but basked in the pleasure of torturing him. She knew he was tempted, and it was so delightful to run him to the end of his tether.

"I am much more than adequate." The tone of his voice had dropped. It was rough, husky, and struggling from self-restraint. Hawke leaned in towards him playfully.

"Prove it, then, why don't you, Knight-Captain?"

Cullen emitted a deep growl from his chest and reached forward suddenly and shifted Hawke's chair. She gasped involuntarily, and she was faced with the stare of his deep amber eyes clouded with a crushing and powerful lust that lit a fire in her core. It was as if she now faced the calm before the storm. She was staring directly into it as it rapidly approached, powerless to stop it. He rose from his chair, leaning into her. One of his hands snaked from her shoulder, up her neck and traced her jawbone. His eyes flickered to her lips, and his breath moistened her lips as his chest rose and fell. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Waves of tingling surfed down her body from the origin of his touch, pulsing down through her fingers. His other hand began to trace up her thigh.

Hawke drew in a small, convulsive breath. Her skin sang at his touch. He was demonstrating that he was a master at her instrument. Here he circled his fingers around her backside, raking his fingers down the back of her thigh in a way that made Hawke arch her back. Did she part her legs on her own, or had he beckoned her to do so with that hand cupping the back of her knee? He tugged her towards him and her ass slid forward in the chair. Her chest was heaving, eyes glazed over. He slowly traced her jawline and wrapped his hand carefully, firmly around her neck, his thumb resting over her racing pulse. He was hovering over top her, and she let out a small moan of pleasure. He nearly snapped. He drove his hand towards the heat between her trembling legs and pressed his palm into her seat. She was pinned to that chair with her center sensually grinding against his forearm. She felt an electric shock flash through her and she betrayed her pleasure with a whimper, eyes locked into his imploringly.

He smirked.

"Your move, Marian."

 

**Author's Note:**

> ...See what I mean? Yeah, you're welcome.


End file.
